


Stealing First

by omen1x2



Category: Persona 5
Genre: First Time, M/M, One Shot, POV First Person, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omen1x2/pseuds/omen1x2
Summary: So maybe sometimes Ryuji's a bit oblivious. And since when does his best friend like baseball? What the hell?





	Stealing First

I beam at my beauty, my pride and joy, my precious, my glorious Toyota Trueno. Okay, so maybe the passenger’s side door has to be opened from the inside, and there’s a lot of scratches in the (otherwise perfect, of course) red paint. But this is it. She’s mine. After slaving away at that stupid part-time job for six months and studying (studying!) for my test and Makoto’s lessons where she said she was never going to get in a car with me ever again, not for as long as she lives (pfft, overreaction, I totally stopped at that light in time and it’s not like I _actually_ hit that old woman crossing the street), here I am, with my own car, having just driven, like, a billion miles to surprise my best buddy in the whole world and his stupid furball cat with a weekend visit.

I may or may not have skipped a day of school to do it, but whatever, it’s not like anyone’s going to notice, right? 

Geez, this neighborhood looks fancy. I still can’t really wrap my head around this kind of place actually being his home. I mean, these are all, like, those fancy cookie cutter houses you would expect from someone who _hadn’t_ had to spend a month in juvie, right? The dude lived a year in the attic of a freaking café, for crying out loud. I wipe my hands on my jeans before pressing the button for the intercom. 

“Hello?” 

Oh, fuck, I think that’s his mom. Me and the guys only met his parents once, but lemme tell you, I think we were all ripe for murder, like, two minutes into meeting them. As much fun as we’d had with our road trip before we dropped him off, the most memorable part for me was how quiet it was on the way back. I think we felt like we were leaving our Leader to die or something. 

“Um, yeah, hello?” Damn it, I’m mumbling. I clear my throat and try again. “Hello, I’m Ryuji Sakamoto, a friend of your son’s?” 

“Oh, yes, I remember you.” Yeah, and you sound like you wish you didn’t, but whatever. “I’m afraid he hasn’t returned from baseball practice. Would you like to come in and wait?” 

Oh, yeah, lemme tell you how much I want to go in there and spend some quality time with my best friend’s Ice Queen mo- Wait, what? “Baseball practice?” 

“Yes, I believe he won’t be home for another hour or so.” 

“But… _baseball practice_?” I just can’t wrap my mind around it. Our longstanding icon of rebellion and justice? Like, in a _school club_? What the hell? 

“Oh, would you rather just meet him at his school?” 

“Uh, sure.” Like I would really invite myself in when I can hear in your voice how much you don’t want me there. “How do I get there?” 

After she gives me directions, I hop back into my trusty Trueno and gun it (or, well, carefully maneuver my way down the street. Makoto wasn’t the only one that was a little bit traumatized when I almost killed someone). I could have probably walked, it didn’t sound that far, but I kind of wanted to see my best friend’s look of surprise (and pride or whatever, yeah, not thinking about it) when he saw me with my very own car. 

~~~~~

“HOLY SHIT!” Okay, so maybe I thought Mama Bitch Queen was trolling me a bit just to get me out of her hair. But no, there’s my best friend, in a dirty baseball uniform (!), about to step up to the plate with a bat in hand while I try to settle my disbelieving ass on the bleachers. 

“Ugh, Ryuji, be quiet…” Well, there’s a familiar voice. I check the first row for a bag with one (count ‘em, one) asshole cat inside. 

“Mona?” 

I sure hope no one’s looking at me, because I probably look pretty shady going through people’s shit, but- “Morgana!” 

“Mmm?” Well, that explains why he wasn’t being all crazy and tearing me a new one. Cat’s asleep. 

I give him a poke. “Oi, Mona!” 

“Ryuji, leave me alone…” He tucks his nose further into his tail. It’d actually be pretty cute if he wasn’t, you know, an asshole. I poke him again. “I said-!” He jerks his head up and glares at me, and then blinks. “Eh? Ryuji?” 

I grin down at him. “Hey, there, Mona. I dropped in for a visit.” 

Morgana sits up and rubs one ear with a paw. “Ugh, I was hoping you were a nightmare.” 

Yeah, whatever, monster cat. I’m happy to see you too. 

I sit down behind him and go back to watching my best friend, who, apparently, managed to get to first base while I wasn’t paying attention. 

“So what’s all this about?” I ask Morgana while he jumps into my lap. 

“What’s what about?” 

“Our infallible leader. Like, on a school baseball team?” 

“Impressive, Ryuji,” Morgana mutters as he curls into a ball on my lap. Lazy bastard is probably trying to go back to sleep. “You learned a new word. I didn’t even know you knew words like ‘baseball,’ let alone ‘infallible.’” 

I flick his ear. “Shut up. But seriously, what gives?” 

“He told me that he was on the baseball team before he had a criminal record. He liked it. He was on his way home from practice the night Shido had him arrested.” 

Okay, that just pisses me off. The guy just wanted to stay with his team, because his team made him happy. Is there anything shitty adults don’t freaking ruin? 

I lean back, deciding that I’m gonna learn to like this thing that my buddy likes. I mean, I figured out I like soccer, right? How different can baseball be? I already know the rules from playing old video games, and sure, it always seemed kind of boring to me before, but damn it, I am going to like this sport if it kills me. 

Geez, were baseball pants always that tight? I’m surprised he can even pull those things on. And isn’t he embarrassed, wearing something like that in public? Dude might as well be naked from the waist down. Like, yeah, here’s my ass. 

When did it get so hot out here, anyway? It’s freaking October, no way should it be this hot. 

It’s right after I watch him slide home (and okay, yeah, I can see it now – I’ve seen him use that exact move to avoid lasers and shit) that their captain calls everyone over to talk to them. Probably the end of practice, my old track team captain would do the same thing, going over how people can improve and what went right and what went wrong and everything in between. I stop petting Morgana (and when did I start doing that in the first place? Ew, he’s, like, drooling in his sleep) and poke him between the eyes to wake him up. 

“Oi, Mona. Wake up. Looks like practice is over.” 

Morgana grumbles but he jumps back over to hide in his bag before the team makes their way over to come grab their stuff. 

I grin when my best bud gets close enough to notice me sitting there, ‘cause I can see the way his eyes do that thing where they light up from the inside, even though his face doesn’t change. It’s pretty cool. 

He waits until the rest of his teammates are walking away, talking loudly to each other and totally ignoring both me and the most awesome person on their team, before coming closer and grabbing his bag. 

“Was I supposed to know you were coming?” He’s being a snarky shit. I can see the way the corner of his mouth tilts up. 

“Well, you know how it is, man. I just found myself in the neighborhood.” And that’s enough playing it cool for me – It doesn’t come as naturally as it does for him and, whatever, it’s not like he’s ever wanted me to act like anything other than myself anyway. I jump up and grab his hand. “Because I have a _car_! Come on, I’ll give you a ride!” 

~~~~~

We stop at a burger place with some sort of green duck as a mascot. Not as good as Big Bang Burger and _definitely_ not as good as ramen, but whatever, I’m biased, and the place _is_ pretty good, I guess. It especially feels pretty good to be able to treat my best friend for once. 

And I sure as shit didn’t want to sit down to eat dinner with my best friend’s douche-parents. 

“I have to say, dude, I never expected to see you in a school club.” I eye his chest. The guy had to change out of his dirty baseball uniform before we left the school, and for some reason, seeing the usual jacket-and-shirt combo is a little disappointing. “Like, you didn’t say a word about it when you visited last summer!” 

He just shrugs and takes another bite of his hamburger, so it’s Morgana that answers for him, as usual. “We weren’t really sure they’d let him join again. Sure, the criminal record was dropped and everything, but it’s pretty hard to drop that kind of social stigma. He only got to really start practicing with everyone again a month ago.” 

And, okay, yeah, I can see why that would be a touchy subject. I’m just not used to there being something I don’t know about my best friend. I’m still feeling weirdly antsy about the whole thing, like seeing my best friend playing a sport has upset my whole universe or something. I keep shifting in my chair and moving my arms and legs. And I can barely even sit still long enough to eat, which is just _wrong_. 

Whatever, like I said, the place wasn’t that great anyway. 

To be fair, I only ate maybe two bites of my burger and absolutely none of my fries, but maybe I’m just not hungry for once. 

~~~~~

I heave a huge sigh (like really, I can feel this shit down to my toes) when we manage to reach his bedroom without having to deal too much with his parents. All they really did when they found out I was staying the night was to just politely nod and then go back to watching television and reading the newspaper, although I’d bet anything that it was more because they didn’t give a flying fuck what my best friend did, as long as it didn’t involve burning the house down, or something else that would directly affect _them_. 

Seriously, I really, really hate those guys. How did two assholes like that manage to have such an awesome kid? 

(Oh yeah, I need to remember to call my mom and let her know I made it all right. Don’t want her to worry.) 

I throw an arm around my best bud’s shoulders after I drop my bag by the door. “We are going to have so much fun! I brought manga, you’ve got video games, and we’ve got all night! What more can two best friends ask for?” I frown. Oh, right. “Except for a couple girls! But other than that!” 

Morgana huffs and jumps up to the open window. “Okay, losers, I’m out.” 

I can’t help being a little disappointed. “Not that I’m complaining, but-” I’m totally complaining, but- “where are you going?” 

“Downstairs, of course. I’ll steal some food from the fridge and sleep on the sofa after they go to bed.” 

“Well, I guess, but-” I glance at my best friend. With my arm wrapped around him, I can tell he’s maybe a little tense, and who can blame him? “Don’t you want to hang with us? We’re so much more awesome than his parents.” 

“Ugh, like I want to spend the whole night with the two of you. No, thanks. Good night!” With that, he jumps out the window to climb down a nearby tree. 

The two of us stare at the open window for a minute before I roll my eyes and drag my best friend over to his bed. “Whatever. Come on, man! Let’s hang! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” 

His room’s way smaller than the one at LeBlanc, so we sit on his bed, knees touching, and grin at each other (well, I grin, he’s just doing that really cool smiling thing with his eyes, but it’s basically the same thing anyway). 

“So, uh, tell me about baseball!” 

~~~~~

Man, this is nice. I’m slouched over with my back against the wall, reading manga, and I’ve got my best friend’s head in my lap. I forgot how ridiculously touchy-feely this guy could be. Although, yeah, I guess with how tiny this room is, there’s nowhere else for him to lie down when he starts to get sleepy. 

I pat the guy’s head. “You want me to move, man?” 

“Hmm?” His eyes open to slits and look up at me. Geez, he’s becoming more and more like a cat every freaking day. “No, I’m good.” 

“If you say so, man. But I’m going to have a hell of a time driving home tomorrow if I fall asleep like this.” Not that I really care, though. If he wants to stay there, then whatever, I won’t move all night. I owe the guy at least that much. 

But he’s pushing himself to sit up. He’s still facing away from me when he stretches, and I can see the way his back muscles move through his shirt before he turns around. There’s kind of a weird pause (I have no idea what non-expression he’s got right now because I’m not looking at his face) before he says, “I guess we could at least change into our pajamas.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” My whole face feels like it’s on fire for some reason, but whatever. It’s a good point, and I’ll have to wear these clothes all day tomorrow anyway. Don’t want to get them wrinkled. 

It’s not until I’m about to change into my sleep shirt that my buddy says, “We’ll have to share the bed.” 

“Huh?” I almost fall over when I turn around because I’ve got one arm in my shirt and now the whole damn thing’s all twisted and shit because apparently I forgot how to put on clothes. 

He’s just standing in the middle of the room, wearing his drawstring pajama pants but still shirtless, and he’s got this look on his face that I’m used to associating with stealing Treasure. “My bed. We can share it.” 

I glance around the room and realize that, yeah, that makes sense, there’s not really enough floor space to roll out a futon. But geez, that weird, antsy feeling I’ve been feeling all evening is back full-blast, as if that awesome, relaxing buddy-time session never existed. “It’s cool, dude. I can sleep on the floor next to the desk. I know you weren’t really expecting me.” 

But he just huffs and moves closer, and closer, and _whoa_ , still closer, which isn’t all that unusual, we’ve always been all up in each other’s spaces, but _dude_ , he’s still shirtless, and like, whoa, that’s a lot of skin, I don’t even- 

Oh, wait, he’s talking. 

“Ryuji.” 

“Uh, yep, that’s my name. Yeah? What’s up? Need something? Clean shirt? Maybe? I don’t have one but it’s cool, we can run to a laundromat or-” I. Am. _Babbling_. Shut up! I close my mouth with a snap, and my bestest buddy in the whole world just leans in closer and all I can see is his _face_ , he’s not wearing his glasses right now, they’re still over on the bed from when he took them off and rubbed his face all over my- What the fuck is happening right now?! 

“Ryuji,” he says again. “You are my best friend.” 

Ah, here we go, the world clicks back into place, and I can feel myself start to grin. “Yes, I am! Best friends!” 

But his eyes narrow again and he shakes his head, like that wasn’t the right answer. “You are _also_ my boyfriend.” 

I think my brain just sort of broke. Like, full on crashed. My ears are buzzing. What? 

He’s still talking. “I’m just waiting for you to catch up.” 

He leans over and kisses my cheek, and then backs away. He’s got this rueful, sad smile on his face. 

Fuck _that_. 

“What the fuck, man?” I grab his shoulder and pull him back in. “Maybe _I_ was waiting for _you_.” Total lie, but whatever. Fuck if I’m the sort of guy to let my boyfriend get a look like that on his face. 

And okay, so maybe I have no idea how to actually kiss someone, but practice makes perfect, right? And my best friend, my _boyfriend_ , has always liked practicing with me before. 

~~~~~

It’s not until later, with my boyfriend pressed against my back and sort of mouthing at my neck, that I say, “Hey, Akira?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“I’m hungry.” 

Okay, wow, the way his breath huffs over my neck when he’s doing his silent laughing thing is kind of really distracting. 

But even better is when he says, “We can sneak downstairs and I’ll make you some curry.” 

We both climb out of bed, and I totally not on purpose grab the shirt he was wearing earlier. “You got anything important you have to do tomorrow?” 

“Not really,” he mutters as he slides on (my) pajama pants. 

“Cool, cool.” I glance out the window at my car, ready and waiting in the street, and think about my boyfriend’s room at his other (his only) home, and how much bigger it is. Surely it wouldn’t be _too_ hard to convince him to go for a drive. 

I am a thief, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from my belief that Akira used to be on a school baseball team and how beautiful he would look in a baseball uniform.
> 
> My avoidance of Akira's name except at the very end was completely intentional, since in-game most people react to him through their own perceptions of him, and, as much as Ryuji loves his best friend, it was hard for him to actually _see_ Akira through most of this.
> 
> It was also very, very hard to write.


End file.
